


Obedient Bug

by Hgrade



Series: Mysterious Organic Tendencies [2]
Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Blood | Energon, Fingering, Fisting, Insecticon, M/M, Masochism, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral, Size Kink, Xeno, gaping, insect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-24 03:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7491783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hgrade/pseuds/Hgrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waspinator always gets the short end of the stick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedient Bug

**Author's Note:**

> This story is unpleasant, go read something nicer.

Waspinator thinks boss bot is prettiest when he is not hurting Waspinator, the thought dances in when he finishes reading the message. Megatron had sent out his "come frag me" code. Sure, it wasn't signed Megatron. Wasp hasn't gotten that from anyone but the boss before, so here he is. 

Fear comes in so many flavors for Waspinator. His pedes clang noisily on the metal floor, since when has it ever been so quiet. About halfway to his own berth another ping slides in. The message waiting sends chills down his bearings. Waspinator usually doesn't get pings from Megatron mid-morning. It's an access code for the predacon's quarters, even more terrifying. The green bot drags himself down the hallways, finding himself at the door of their dear leader too soon. 

Strangely enough, the purple bot's quarters are in disarray. Megatron doesn't have very much in the way of belongings or furniture, but there's enough knickknacks to toss about. A kick later the pheromones in the air smack his antenna around, his bulbous tail twitches sporadically. Part of him shrinks up into a fearful little coil, the other begins to divert all the energon in his processor to his plug. Waspinator's mind has been through it far too many times to not do this. While he's not a mind reader the green bot already knows. Megatron only wants one thing when he pings at odd hours, when the room smells a little like anger and frustration.

He steps in and the door slides shut behind him, It glows once to indicate it's locked. Waspinator doesn't notice it, stepping closer and close to the predacon so casually perched upon an upset seat. "Waspinator here boss." the green bot doesn't sound very enthusiastic. He never does.

Megatron frowns over the edge of his datapad. "You're early," a sigh slips from Megatron's vents. "I was under the impression your team wasn't done gathering Energon."

"Waspinator near base," he tilts his head slowly, expression darkening "Waspinator caught in explosion because dumb spider."

The reptilian predacon smiles indulgently, he's pissed at the loss of another cache of good energon. "Remind me to punish him."

Of course, Waspinator won't admit that it was also his fault. Not all of his fault, but such a large portion he won't admit for fear of punishment. Primus, inciting Megatron's wrath at this moment would be a horrible decision. He'd be beaten, then raped for a few hours. Not a common occurrence, but the thought itself terrifies the predacon. There are very few options when it comes to overloads and companionship. Part of him feels the ache of loneliness, the lack of genuine comradery that was left on Cybertron. His tail twitches in betrayal. "Of course." better another bot than him. Speaking of beatings, Megatron sets down the datapad. Wasp's eyes are fixated on the movement. Another klick passes, and the larger bot is nearly upon him. 

The green bot stays shock still, begging his circuits for quiet obedience. Half his auxiliary nodes scream to run from their leader, close quarters, danger. Megatron's charming mouth raises into a bemused smirk, "I have an unusual request for you" Waspinator can't help the horror that spills onto his face, brows furrowing and intake jerking down. "it's nothing painful, I assure you."

"Waspinator ready" the antenna atop his head droop.

"I said I'm not going to punish you."

A bead of fear drops into his vocals, "What does dinosaur want then?" almost every time he visited Megatron it was for interfacing. Waspiantor will admit it's not terrible, but it's not wanted. Even if he refused, Megatron would be more than willing to pin the green bot down and change his mind. Aside from that, Waspinator doesn't think he'll ever forget the fact that Megatron's rod is uncomfortably large, it took weeks to get his calipers adjusted to the proper girth the first time. Wasp gulps ominously.

"I want you to frag me."

The predicon's optics narrow before his processor detects an error. Abruptly, Waspinator decides it is a dream, everything is a dream. He is not on a strange mission and being asked to frag a bot three frame sizes up, the same one that had molested him a dozen times before, alone stranded on an alien world. This is a strange and nearly nightmarish dream, like that one he had about fragging a dozen dinobot clones at once. "this" he pauses, buzzing "is a joke?"

"Waspinator, why would I lie to you?" the insectoid doesn't reply but form the way he rubs his head and looks to the floor says a lot.

"Wasp not sure." A rather haunting pause invades their conversation. Yes, last time had gone catastrophically bad. Wasp was ripped to pieces by the end of it, but in such a comical manner Primus decided to resurrect his favorite chew toy yet again. Maybe it was Unicron though, bastard. Waspinator taps the tips of his servos together. 

Megatron sighs, "I promise to not hurt you." the purple bot steps back, "Why, I'll even obey. Yes."

The other bot nods his head, maybe. Just maybe things could be a little different. "Then you lay on berth." the triumph in this exclamation annoys Megatron. "Waspinator likes making boss bot feel good." Waspinator says it to himself rather than to Megatron. "Please don't hurt Waspinator again."

With a resigned air the purple bot climbs atop his own berth, for few klicks his back is towards Waspinator. When he rolls onto his side, the smaller bot is rubbing his servos together and muttering to himself. "Waspinator, what are you doing?"

Waspinator skitters to the side of the berth, suddenly alert. His antennae twitch erratically and he leans forward slowly. Megatron finds the fact the smaller bot is straining to reach whatever it is he wants endearing. The fingers on his hip are very distracting. Waspinator touches the edges of Megatron's hips and skirts over the edge of his purple thighs. Wasp's not entirely sure how to get up onto the berth made for one. Usually they just fragged against a wall or on the floor itself. 

Megatron's modesty plates are both gone the moment Wasp ghosts over the predicon's groin. "No tricks." Megatron can't stop the shiver, not when the mere brush of claws against his lips gets him going. Wasp takes his sweet time, slowly sliding his finger between the fat folds. Waspinator can't recall Megatron ever allowing this to occur. The green bot lets his plates bare his interface array discreetly. The inectoid 'con drags his finger out and examines the beads of lubricant that dribble out curiously.

Something about the smell feels off. His processor wants to carefully examine the makeup of the transfluid, but instead he leans forward and licks the source. Megatron's legs tense as the warmer tongue slides along the outside of his mound, not getting near enough for satisfaction. Impatiently, Megatron rocks his hips forward. Wasp grumbles at the dull clunk of mass shoving into his face, Megatron even makes a small protest as Waspinator's sharp chin digs into a thigh. "Still." Wasp spreads the slit with his right servo, and slides two fingers in at once. 

The loose fit registers and Waspinator realizes he might have a problem. Megatron hisses softly and clenches around the intruding claws. Fluid drips down his open plug panel, weeping down one hip and glowing intensely. Waspinator slips in a third and fourth finger into the bot with a mischievous giggle. The calipers grasp down upon green claws and give a tight squeeze. "What is it?" comes from the Predicon leader. 

"Waspinator can fit whole hand in you."

"No, you c" he shudders suddenly as the smaller bot wiggles his sharp, clawed digits inside. "can't." the other bot is steadily thrusting inwards with all his fingers, flexing his servo.

"Waspinator can." the insectoid 'con wiggles his fingers again, then withdraws shallowly.

The pointed ends of Waspinator's claws feel dangerous, raking over nodes painfully. A whine escapes Megatron's throat when Wasp increases the pressure too much. "Stop" his teeth clench together dangerously." That's impos-" Megatron is abruptly interrupted by Waspinator's thumb joining the fray, his entire servo shortly prove the point all by itself with a wet slup. At any point the lead 'con could simply stand up and rip off Waspinator's blasted servo, that lingers in the back of the green bot's processor. 

Waspinator is laughing. "Boss bot big." snickering, he begins to jerk his servo in deeper, and deeper. Megatron groans at the sensation of fingers prickling at deeper nodes, the pressure teeters between pain and pleasure. Then something strange occurs, it feels like Waspinator's servo has gotten thicker. Neither of them have x-ray vision to witness Wasp's clenched fist. The sensation overwhelms Megatron in a few nanoclicks, he chokes raggedly with his first overload. Thighs squeeze together tightly as the smaller bot slowly drags his forearm out. "Can Waspinator even fit after servo goes in?"

Megatron doesn't answer, as green bot is joining him on the berth. Waspinator already knows the answer, now that he's had his entire fraggin servo in there. There's not enough room, Waspinator sits on his knees and drags Megatron's hip down. His wet servo is held out at an awkward angle. Facedown, Megatron quickly raises his hips. Waspinator spreads the bot again, this time with all of the fingers on his servos. There's something so ridiculous about the situation that's almost made Waspinator hysterical. He notes the color of Megatron's internal mesh before pressing his mouth to the glowing nodes. 

The leader recognizes the sensation of licking, but Waspinator's tongue is thin and surprisingly long. A narrow point of pressure traces the lubricant slick edge of the ring of nodes before slinking inside. Waspinator hums pleasantly, Megatron tastes tangy, and somewhat of energon. That desperate urge to have his cord buried in that channel burns deep as his intake becomes thoroughly coated with lubricant. The thoughts within the beastformer's processor have slowed to a trickle as the wave of feedback slides over him.

In a trance-like state the green bot slowly lifts himself onto his knees, grabs a hip and drags Megatron's aft back. Megatron has far too much height on Waspinator though, he spreads his legs wider so his hips can lower and nearly falls off of the berth. "Frag." several colorful comments about the tripticon council slip from his mouth. Waspinator's linining up his cord slowly, the heated and lubricated tip prods against Megatron's groin. "Did you get thinner?" the purple bot could of sworn it wasn't this thin. Remarkably, the smaller bot doesn't reply. Megatron grumbles when Waspinator shoves the entire thing in with a single, fluid stroke. Amusedly, the purple bot notes that the cord is thinner and rougher now. It's an acceptable trade, even though he's never gotten to this sort of fragging fantasy with the green bot. Waspinator's wings flicker on and off, he wraps his arms tightly around Megatron's waist. 

The smaller bot clutches tightly to the panels on Megatron's belly, using the leverage to grind hard against the node clad ceiling. Buzzing erupts among the sound of rushing air, the flier's wings sporadically fluttering. The purple bot rocks his hips back into the flier's as they frag, Megatron leans his head down to touch the berth. Cold leeches into hot plating, charge crackling as his systems bleat warnings. The claws scratching at his stomach hardly phasing him as the heat begins to crawl up the rubbery mesh. Slowly he tilts his hips more, gritting his teeth as Waspiantor has the gall to dig his claws in sharply. Megatron registers the damage but hardly cares since the new angle ensures that Wasp is hitting his ceiling nodes dead on. The weight on him steadily increases, the strokes getting harder and more desperate as Waspiator reaches his limit. 

Fuzzy praises erupt as the smaller bot overloads, hips shivering and grinding loudly against Megatron's own. The purple bot is quite aware that he's clenching Waspinator's cord so tight his fluid is struggling against the intense grasp. The sensation of excess lubricant sliding down Megatron's external node and panel teases hauntingly. "Waspinator." Waspinator can't remember a time any bot called his name so reverently. Megatron pushes himself up, the smaller bot clinging to him still. It feels like they're molded together, both kneeling. 

Wasp makes a curious noise when Megatron reaches between their legs, unable to see what's going on. The large, sharped toothed maw on Megatron's right arm pants heavily. Dully, the green bot observes the drooling head for a few klicks. He can't quite process the twitching lips or the way the eye drifts from Megatron's groin to himself. Waspinator's processor is flooded with the drawing out of his orgasm in a dreamy, field melting overload.

Megatron's rocking into the flier behind him in short motions, trying to not crush him against the berth. Wasp begins to measure the space of time between Megatron's fluttering grasp and the slow arch of shadow against the berth. The bigger bot rubs sharply against his external node, charge building even as Waspinator's plug is obviously wilting from the excessive pressure. The cycles crawl by though, and eventually he gives up. 

Immediately Waspinator's processor drags him into a panicked state. His vents even shut off because he is listening for Megatron. The bigger bot doesn't end the pregnant silence. Waspinator peers over the side of Megatron's broad back and cringes. Should he speak, should he keep his intake shut instead. Tensing, the smaller bot feels the rush of fluid slide down his shaft. The runny metallic liquid coats his crotch and thighs, much like Megatron's own. Fear and a crushing sense of dread suddenly spike through Wasp's EM field. 

"What is it?" comes coolly through the larger bot's vocalizer. Energon pink is laced through the rest of the splatter. Megatron hardly gives it a glance before sliding off the edge of the berth. Megatron's servo disappears back to that node, pinching it delicately before going back to rubbing. He shuts his optics before he realizes that Waspinator is watching him. The leader looks into the puddle and then at Waspinator. A very exaggerated shrug later, "Do you care to finish what you started?" he manages a casual tone instead of the desperate wave he's feeling.

The only indication of life is the twitch of antenna. Waspinator tilts his head, finding himself taller than Megatron for once. "How?" but a rather savage idea bursts into his mind. He still has one of those energon crystals in his subspace. A nice, solid and stable one too. The field warps back into the pungent mist of lust, curiosity and maliciousness.

Optic's shut Megatron chuckles darkly, "Whatever it is, do you really think you could handle hurting me? Or are you afraid of dirty Energon?" Waspinator doesn't reply.

The green bot slides to the floor and puts a servo on Megatron's back. Applying pressure to the bot's back, he finds Megatron willing to bend over the berth. "Surprise." chortles the smaller bot. Megatron's orifice is still very wet and slick. Waspinator shoves his claws back inside, then spreads his fingers along the inside. He pulls his servo out, holding the bot open. Estimating there to be enough lubrication, he takes the energon crystal out. The crystal is thicker than his forearm, thicker than Megatron's cord. The flier compares the opening to the thick, flat end of the butt. "Hmmm" he buzzes for a moment longer. Megatron huffs at the cold leeching against his exposed inner nodes. "Big surprise." Wasp snorts. The crystal, like most is prism shaped. The edges are slightly blunted from wear. He slides out his fingers and begins to press in the flatter end of the crystal.

Sharp, cold pressure makes Megatron's tanks crunch and clatter with fear. His thighs quiver shortly after, too many variables unknown. The object is too hard for fragging, a lesson Waspinator has clearly not learned. "Take it out." he hisses, choking as the next inch begins to ache. It's too dry, too wide and heavy. He can almost imagine his organs coming out, sticking to the length of un-prepped length. An eternity in microklicks pass.

Almost instantly Waspinator had begun removing the scant inches of crystal from Megatron's obviously counterfeit orifice. Megatron's torment feels far longer than that. The bot remains over the berth even after it's removed and set next to him. 

"Did" the purple bot pauses. "did you really just try to fuck me with that?"

"Yes?" Waspinator's voice is laden with guilt.

"You're an idiot." Megatron erupts into laughter. "I thought" he rubs the single non-facial servo against his faceplate. "I don't know. I thought you were using a weapon of some kind. Not a crystal." He turns around and sits up on his berth.

"Waspinator thought it was a good idea." the bug guy frowns. 

Then frowns some more.

Megatron's optics have fixated on something other than Waspinator. Any arousal that had been there before ebb away. Waspinator can feel it in his field that he's being examined closely.

"What is it?"

"Were you injured earlier?" 

"Waspinator was not."

"Yes. I see." Megatron stands up again, "Sit." he pats the berth.

Curiously, Waspinator takes a seat.

Megatron circles to the end of his berth, then eyes Waspinator's tail once again. Though he's interfaced with Waspinator many times before, there had never been such a strange reaction. The bot thinks Waspinator's tail has been crushed. It has to of been crushed, because it is illogical for so much tissue to be poking out of one end of it. Waspinator doesn't even have a proper sting, just the edge of the plating comes to a point. "What do we have here." Megatron asks no one in particular, not even his rubber ducky. Thus begins Megatron's curious invasion, he carefully prods the pink-blue sticking out of Waspinator's tail and watches the reaction. The surface is wet and slick, Waspinator gives a heavy vent with even a minute amount of pressure. Megatron slides his digits over the surface and more of the organ slips out "This is a strange development." extremely strange. 

"Waspinator." Waspinator says to himself.

"Your organic disguise must of formed part of an organ system. Yes, how odd." he mumbles and pats the surface slowly. It's wet and squishy, nearly inert. More of the thing slides out, like a long coil of duct tubing. "This is redundantly long. Waspinator how does so much fit in there?" easily over a meter of the apparent reproductive organ has slipped onto his berth. "This is a complete waste of support systems." he mumbles, just before leaning down and giving one of the coils a lick.

"Waspinator cold." he tries to recall the strange not-cord organic-cord back into his body. The protocols don't exists or respond. He shivers when Megtron starts to mouth the blunt end.

Megatron recognizes how futile the task is. "Then withdraw it."

"I can't." 

"Well" Megatron snorts. "you can frag yourself." Waspinator groans. "I'm joking, I'm joking." and with all the boyish charm in his voice "I need a bigger berth." clearly a medical sized one at this rate. 

The larger mech walks around the berth, then drags himself up the unoccupied side. He splays his legs, and finds Waspinator between them shortly. It's almost cute watching the green mech grumble about having such a giant cord yet it being too delicate and long to even fraggin work. The first few inches are worrisome, Megatron realizing only afterwards that he's still damaged from the crystal. It stings, then it stings some more. The coiled length of quasi-organic tissue is warm and clearly taking up a lot of Waspinator's resources to maintain "It's soft." so soft they can squeeze all of it into the larger bot.

A sense of disbelief settles between the two once Megatron is crotch to tail. "We are never going to speak of this again, understood?" the pointed end of Waspinator's tail is uncomfortable. The way the bug bot's eyes slide shut dreamily disturbs both of them. "Also, stay awake." Megatron frowns as the EM field from the flier wavers. "I think you need more energon." he mutters. 

Waspinator's vents get hotter as the bigger bot begins to rock against him again. "Waspinator's awake."

"Yes, that's good." mumbles the big bot. He croons when the green bot wraps his servo around Megatron's cord. "Now, maybe we can finish this." dully, he registers the green bot's half-organic coils twitch at the prospect.

**Author's Note:**

> [Sad notes here.](https://updatebar.tumblr.com/post/147432661162/additional-notes-for-obedient-bugmore-ive)


End file.
